ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED BY THE SOMERS RECORD (11-01-18)
Twice a year the Tarrytown Music Hall hosts a Family Fun Day, where parents and kids can stop by and get a close-up look at the theater. As a Music Hall volunteer, I often help out on those days so I can keep in touch with the community and sit in seats that I'm normally too cheap to purchase. There are activities and performances to keep everybody busy.
I don't have any kids that I know of, but I remember being one, so how hard could parenting be? You just do the opposite of everything you liked when you were a kid. People used to ask me if I'd ever want children. "Maybe one day in the future," I'd respond. One day is about all I could handle, so Family Fun Day is perfect for me, since everybody goes home after a few hours. Having kids is a big decision. I was always afraid that at some point youngsters might screech, and I have an aversion to loud displays of drama. Plus, there are so many rules now. Do I need a baby walker or a baby stroller? My baby looks like it's ambling- do I need a separate device for that? When I was growing up it was easier; my parents would tell us to go play in the street and try not to damage any cars that drove by. When the sun went down we went inside to get something to eat, but other than that you were expected not to do anything that would make your parents have to apologize to the neighbors or pay for anything you broke.
Last year at Family Fun Day I was helping out at the shaker station. You take these plastic eggs and fill them with rice, spilling most of it on the floor. Then you take two plastic spoons, and tape the whole thing together with this colored tape, and presto, you have a nice set of maracas, something I forgot to compliment you on the last time I saw you. Now, you may think that it's counter-intuitive to give young people something to make noise with. But the key here is to give them something that makes LESS noise than whatever they had before. Plus, when we were done there was enough rice on the floor to feed a medium-sized Asian country.
Onstage there was a circus arts company that was teaching kids how to learn to juggle or walk a tightrope. One gal from the troupe shimmied up a silk ribbon that went all the way up to the catwalk. I should have asked her to feed the cat as long as she was up there. Who hasn't dreamed about running away to the circus? I've had that dream, but it was a traveling circus and eventually they ran away from ME.
This year I was working at an arts and crafts table. You take a cardboard template with clear plastic in the middle in the shape of an acorn, and you glue pieces of translucent colored paper to it. When you hold it up to the light it looks like a stained glass window. Soon I had a table full of kids with their Moms and Dads working on them. In the background they were playing songs from Pixar movies, and I figured I could impress the kids with my knowledge of Disney heroines, and make a little small talk. I had a captive audience of a Mom and two sisters. "You know who you look like?" I said to one of them. "Shrek." I was not so gently informed that Shrek is an ogre. "Oops, sorry to hear that. I thought it was that mermaid with the red hair who looks like she may have had a nose job." Mom wasn't getting involved.
Back onstage the Music Hall Academy group was running an improv class demonstration which teaches people how to think on their feet, even if they're sitting down. Meanwhile, I was working on my own stained glass window along with the others. I am really great with kids because we are pretty close in emotional maturity. "You know, when I was a kid, we used to eat the paste," I said. The Mom finally looked up. "But I don't recommend it as a primary diet. You should eat an apple instead. But if it was between cauliflower and paste I probably would choose the paste." I'm not kidding, we really did used to eat the paste, I'm not exactly sure why. I was starting to get hungry but I was the only volunteer at my table. If I ate the paste AND an acorn template, I'd have a stained glass window in my stomach and I could look at it through my belly button. I had to end the conversation because I glued the damned thing to my shirt. So I really don't know if I'll ever have children, I guess you'll have to clear it with them.
Twice a year the Tarrytown Music Hall hosts a Family Fun Day, where parents and kids can stop by and get a close-up look at the theater. As a Music Hall volunteer, I often help out on those days so I can keep in touch with the community and sit in seats that I'm normally too cheap to purchase. There are activities and performances to keep everybody busy.
I don't have any kids that I know of, but I remember being one, so how hard could parenting be? You just do the opposite of everything you liked when you were a kid. People used to ask me if I'd ever want children. "Maybe one day in the future," I'd respond. One day is about all I could handle, so Family Fun Day is perfect for me, since everybody goes home after a few hours. Having kids is a big decision. I was always afraid that at some point youngsters might screech, and I have an aversion to loud displays of drama. Plus, there are so many rules now. Do I need a baby walker or a baby stroller? My baby looks like it's ambling- do I need a separate device for that? When I was growing up it was easier; my parents would tell us to go play in the street and try not to damage any cars that drove by. When the sun went down we went inside to get something to eat, but other than that you were expected not to do anything that would make your parents have to apologize to the neighbors or pay for anything you broke.
Last year at Family Fun Day I was helping out at the shaker station. You take these plastic eggs and fill them with rice, spilling most of it on the floor. Then you take two plastic spoons, and tape the whole thing together with this colored tape, and presto, you have a nice set of maracas, something I forgot to compliment you on the last time I saw you. Now, you may think that it's counter-intuitive to give young people something to make noise with. But the key here is to give them something that makes LESS noise than whatever they had before. Plus, when we were done there was enough rice on the floor to feed a medium-sized Asian country.
Onstage there was a circus arts company that was teaching kids how to learn to juggle or walk a tightrope. One gal from the troupe shimmied up a silk ribbon that went all the way up to the catwalk. I should have asked her to feed the cat as long as she was up there. Who hasn't dreamed about running away to the circus? I've had that dream, but it was a traveling circus and eventually they ran away from ME.
This year I was working at an arts and crafts table. You take a cardboard template with clear plastic in the middle in the shape of an acorn, and you glue pieces of translucent colored paper to it. When you hold it up to the light it looks like a stained glass window. Soon I had a table full of kids with their Moms and Dads working on them. In the background they were playing songs from Pixar movies, and I figured I could impress the kids with my knowledge of Disney heroines, and make a little small talk. I had a captive audience of a Mom and two sisters. "You know who you look like?" I said to one of them. "Shrek." I was not so gently informed that Shrek is an ogre. "Oops, sorry to hear that. I thought it was that mermaid with the red hair who looks like she may have had a nose job." Mom wasn't getting involved.
Back onstage the Music Hall Academy group was running an improv class demonstration which teaches people how to think on their feet, even if they're sitting down. Meanwhile, I was working on my own stained glass window along with the others. I am really great with kids because we are pretty close in emotional maturity. "You know, when I was a kid, we used to eat the paste," I said. The Mom finally looked up. "But I don't recommend it as a primary diet. You should eat an apple instead. But if it was between cauliflower and paste I probably would choose the paste." I'm not kidding, we really did used to eat the paste, I'm not exactly sure why. I was starting to get hungry but I was the only volunteer at my table. If I ate the paste AND an acorn template, I'd have a stained glass window in my stomach and I could look at it through my belly button. I had to end the conversation because I glued the damned thing to my shirt. So I really don't know if I'll ever have children, I guess you'll have to clear it with them.
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